


pictures of you

by justlikegallup



Category: The Cure (Band)
Genre: Drinking, Heartache, I hate tags, M/M, Mentions of drugs, Pictures of You, Robert is sad, The Cure, mlm, robert smith - Freeform, robin gallith, simon gallup - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-15
Updated: 2020-08-15
Packaged: 2021-03-06 04:20:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,389
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25917244
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/justlikegallup/pseuds/justlikegallup
Summary: robert's looking back at some memories he remembered of him and the man he loved, right before he buggered off.////originally posted on Wattpad @justlikegallup :)
Relationships: Simon Gallup/Robert Smith
Comments: 1
Kudos: 8





	1. Chapter 1

Light shone harshly through the little window of the bathroom, bouncing off of the ugly green coloured tiles and directly onto Robert's face, which was grimacing at the sudden light shining in his tired, hungover eyes. He didn't bother getting up from where he was awkwardly lying in the bath,vodka bottle in one hand and brown paper bag in the other. The remaining liquid that was left in the bottle now spilt in his damp trousers, immediately giving off a nauseating smell.

"fuck.." Robert whispered , mainly to himself, as he tried to lift his head up to peer over his legs which were dangling over the side of the bath, trying to see the mess of the small box room before him. Just like he thought, it was an absolute state. Half full shampoo and conditioner bottles strewn around the floor, tubs and cans in the sink and..toilet?

Robert raised his eyebrows - clearly judging himself. It must of been one fucking hell of a night to have caused all this by himself, and he told himself he was too drunk to even remember what had happened - but he did. He always did. It happened so frequently it was almost a routine.

He would come home from either drinking through an entire pub or getting into a scrap with a rando, then in the early hours of the morning come home to drink and sob about the same thing. Over and over. He tried to forget about it, tried to make the memories go away, but of course he couldn't. The cause of his constant breakdowns would never not be on his mind, itching away at his brain.

Robert sat up , as best as he could seeing as his legs felt so numb they may as well not of been there, and turned his head to the left, eyes piercing on the brown paper bag in his hand. He let the bottle in the other hand slide and land with a thud in the grotty bathtub as he brought the bag up to his face, inhaling it even though it didn't smell of anything interesting.

"imagine someone walking in on me now," Robert thought to himself , "must look like a right knob- truly wankered. Ha!". He snorted rather sadly at that thought . He must genuinely look like a right bellend , lying in his disgusting bath tub whilst sniffing a paper bag.

The bag.

The bag that he did not dare to open sober, or in the day time. No, this was for when he was absolutely shit faced and could cry and scream and kick, then blame it on the booze. That's what he did usually anyway, blame it on the drink, or occasionally drugs.

He wondered what the time was , and how long he had been in the small room. Judging by the light it was late morning. Or afternoon, because to be honest, Robert couldn't really give a shit. Absolutely could not be arsed with the time- he never was, never once cared for it.

His glance travelled from the window back to the bag he now held infront on his face. He knew what he was about to do would ruin him, would absolutely make him want to breakdown there and then. He KNEW that it could potentially break him, seeing as he was mostly sober, apart from the throbbing in the back of his skull. But he did it anyway, and with trembling fingers,

he opened it.


	2. pictures of you

Simon. 

That name was always in Robert's mind,, like it had been permanently engraved right in the middle of his brain with an evil-inked pen. 

It had been around 5 months since Simon left The Cure , and it didn't look like he was coming back. Robert remembered the constant bickering between them both , starting with cold glares which soon turned into screaming fests. It caused a great load of tension to be put on the band and others around them- just waiting for the two childish men to strike yet another argument over something so fucking stupid. 

It was weird, because before it all happened, before the hatred came between them, they were basically inseparable. It was clear to anyone that they cared and loved each other dearly. You wouldn't find them apart, wherever Robert went, Simon was close behind- and vice verca. Granted, that did get people talking , and men in bars did give them some rather rude questionable glances whenever Simon had his arm around him, but they just didn't care. It was like they were in their own little world. 

Lol did get a bit fed up mind - whenever the three of them were at the pub , they payed no mind to anyone but eachother , leaving Lol in a right mood next to them. But even though Lol could be a right miserable bastard sometimes , he really would've much preferred everything to go back to how it was, before the tension got so thick between them you could snap it. And it did snap, snapped right in two , shattering what was left of the threesome's friendship, although it did seem like it was mainly Robert's bond that broke with everyone. Simon and Lol kept in touch , going out to drink every once in a while , but it seemed like the pair couldn't stand the sight of Robert. It seemed like nobody could, and he preferred it that way, with nobody there to pretend to care.

Snapping out of his far away daze , Robert quickly scanned the room again, just making sure if he was still in the dimly-lit shithole he called his bathroom- and of course he was. He wouldn't of expected to be anywhere else really, noting the dull ache in his back and thighs from leaning in the bathtub.

His eyes fell back down to the now opened bag , and his hands almost unconsciously pulled out the contents inside. 

Most of the photos where already scattered on the floor from last night, but there seemed to be a couple left in the bag. 

Drawing out a shaky breath, Robert picked up one and let the rest fall to the bathtub. There was no way he would look at all of them, he knew he wouldn't be able to handle it. 

The glossy photo shook in his hand, and he turned it over, scrunching his eyes closed as soon as he looked. Of course it had to be this one. 

The photo was of Simon AND Robert, which annoyed him slightly as he was usually the one behind the camera , Simon being the main focus . It was at an after party somewhere , at least he thought it was. He presumed they were drunk out of their minds, but then again when were they not. 

Robert's fingers ghosted over Simon's features, quietly giggling to himself at his expression. His eyes were scrunched up, mouth open with his teeth clenched , like he was halfway through a sentence. He was actually, pretty sure he was telling whoever was behind the camera to fuck off . But what Robert was focussed on the most was the way both of them were hanging on to eachother. One of Simon's hands around his waist as the hidden one was placed firmly on his lower back, while Robert was clutching tightly on his jacket , as if he was scared he would leave him as soon as he let go. And he did.

He sniffed at that, only realising now he was crying . He was right though, and that's what hurt the most. They slowly started growing apart, loosening the loving grip they had on each other's souls until, slowly, they broke apart. A ghostly hand came between them, untying the benevolent rope that bowed them as one , until the grip turned icy , creating a border between the two now isolate souls.

Robert closed his eyes again, not bothering to hold in the muffled sobs that were coming out. He leaned his head back in the bathtub, holding the picture to his lips, gently kissing it before proceeding to scrunch it up into a ball.

Placing the crumpled paper over his heart , Robert let his head fall back for the final time that day, letting himself fall into a deep and sorry slumber, preparing to repeat the numbing process all over again

**Author's Note:**

> ty for reading :)


End file.
